


Headspace Trouble (Pax 2017)

by firecracker189



Series: The Adventures of Baby Jack and Little Ethan [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Baby!Jack, Daddy!Mark, Diapers, Gen, Little!Ethan, Little!Jack, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Wetting, daddy!tyler, nsap, toddler!ethan, used to be one work but now i'm splitting it to a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2020-01-16 04:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18513601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecracker189/pseuds/firecracker189
Summary: Prev. Chapter one of 'Regression Oneshots', written back in 2017 when this idea all started. Jack has trouble after PAX, Mark helps bc he's the best daddy.





	Headspace Trouble (Pax 2017)

It had been a hard few days, saying goodbye to everyone after PAX, but Jack nonetheless packed up and headed back to Brighton. But as he lay in bed, staring up at the darkness, he felt uncomfortable. Like he didn’t belong in his own skin. He could almost picture Mark’s disapproving frown, and it made him squirm slightly in shame. But the truth was, he hadn’t been little for weeks. Couldn’t make himself do it, felt too ashamed of himself and he knew it wasn’t good to force headspace when it wasn’t going to happen. But he also knew it wasn’t good to suppress headspace when he really needed it. He rolled over and grabbed his phone. It was still early in LA, he could catch Mark just after dinner time his time. He knew Mark usually preferred to FaceTime, but he didn’t really want to turn on the light and his bed was comfy. So Mark was getting a voice call.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Of course right off the bat, knowing his little’s time zone, Mark was in Daddy mode.

Jack shifted uneasily. “I erm, just… wanted to talk,” he ended up saying lamely, nibbling at his thumbnail.

“Get that out of your mouth.” Mark’s voice chided over the miles separating them.

Jack made a little sound that may have been half apology half ‘I’m an adult, I do what I fucking want’, but nonetheless the digit made its way from his mouth.

“So, what did you need to talk about?” Mark’s voice was slightly muffled, maybe he’d gone upstairs or something.

“Um. I….” he sighed and ran a hand through green locks. “I… can’t be little. I’ve tried, but… I just can’t seem to and… it doesn’t feel good. I wanted to, when we were together for PAX, but I couldn’t seem to then, either. It’s like my brain is stuck in adult mode or something, but I know I need to be little and… I just can’t!” he huffed angrily.

Mark made a soft noise of affirmation. “Well, maybe if you turned the light on, Cranky Pants,” he teased softly, “then I could help you out, maybe see if we can’t fix that problem.” His voice was anything but angry as he thoughtfully stared at a shelf of children’s books that sat just inside his closet. The shuffling and sighing he could hear across the line made him smile slightly. His cranky boy needed to age down desperately, and the thought made his heart ache. He just wished he’d known Jack wanted to be little when they were actually together. He could have tugged his squirmy baby onto his lap and cuddled him until he relaxed finally. “I’m gonna swap you to video chat, okay?”

“’kay.” It sounded very resigned and sleepy and it made Mark’s lips turn up the slightest bit.

“Okay. You hold on, alright?” he tapped the button and soon a sleepy and frankly displeased looking Jack filled the screen of his phone. “Hey there, bug.” He greeted softly. “You havin’ trouble getting’ little?” Mark kept his voice soft and soothing, hoping to start that mental process going. At Jack’s distressed nod, he kept speaking. “Well, maybe if Daddy talks you through your special bedtime routine and reads you a story, would that help?”

Jack bit his lip. He hadn’t expected to have such relief instantly wash over him just at seeing Mark’s face and hearing him say those words. He nodded again.

“Alright, baby boy. You just go on over there and pick out some jammies for me, okay?” Another nod and the sound of scurrying feet met his ears as Jack tugged open the drawer that had all his onesies and footed sleepers inside and rummaged around.

“Daddy?” There it was. That’s what he wanted to hear. It was soft, and tentative, like he was barely Little Jack at all, but it was there.

“What, Jackaboo?” he cooed softly, smiling to himself.

“Need help.” Still soft, like Big Jack was waiting beneath the barest hint of surface, ready to be ashamed at himself and withdraw again at the slightest provocation.

“You want Daddy to help you pick them out?” he asked. “Hmm, well, I know a Baby Bug that looks absolutely adorable in his panda onesie.” Mark pretended to muse to himself. More rummaging. Then his baby appeared, fully Little and holding the aforementioned jammies. Half in screen, Jack’s pajamas scraped softly against the mic of his phone as he spoke back up.

“Here they are, Daddy.”

“Good boy, I see that!” Mark enthused, so happy to see the immediate relief of stress (in both of them, he was surprised to note) that Jack finally succumbing to headspace had provided. “Now, listen to me, Jackabear. Listen to Daddy for a minute.” Obediently, a pair of wide blue eyes focused on him. “Good boy. Daddy isn’t there to help you, do you think that you can get into a diaper for him? We don’t want any more wet sheets, do we, baby?” At Jack’s rigorous head nod, he couldn’t help but chuckle softly. God, Mark  _loved_ that little boy. “Alright, good boy. You go get changed for me and come back, okay?”

“Kay.”

Mark frowned. That response sounded subdued, and he wasn’t sure why. He made a note to ask the baby about it when he returned to frame. The scuffling he heard had him hoping that there would be no diaper rashes or leaky diapers involved—call him crazy but he didn’t trust the one year old with his own diaper changes really. To entertain himself while Jack got dressed, he swiped through some old photos of the two of them (himself and Little Jack) and smiled softly.

A moment later there was a rustling, and Jack appeared again, cute panda onesie on and the obvious bulk of a diaper between his legs. Mark theoretically crossed his fingers and hoped the baby had done it all right. “Hey, baby boy,” he greeted quietly, and blew his little one a kiss. Jack lethargically caught the kiss and put it to his cheek, a far cry from the usual bouncy baby boy Mark had on his hands. “What’s the matter, hmm?” Mark probed.

Jack picked up his phone and crawled into his bed, rummaging in a bedside drawer before coming back up with his paci and his blankie, nervously cuddling the comfort object.

“Tell Daddy what’s going on in that lil’ green head of yours.”

Jack looked at his paci, like he really wanted to suck on it, but looked from the object to Mark and back, knowing his Daddy expected an answer. Mark watched quietly for several moments while the baby struggled, jaw clenching as he fiddled with his paci. “Don’t like feelin’ like this.” He finally managed, eyes soft and pleading as he looked up to Mark. His eyes filled with tears, lip quivering in the way that always made Mark’s heart melt. Jack hugged his blankie to his chest and sniffled and Mark cooed quietly.

“Baby  _boy_ ,” he empathized, hating it had taken until they were apart for Jack to finally go back into headspace. “I know you don’t, but now we know, don’t we? We know not to go this long again without making time, don’t we?”

Jack pouted softly and gave a little whimper, nodding as he swiped his hands over his eyes.

“But don’t cry, honey bear, please don’t cry.” Mark pleaded, as Jack dissolved into desperate sobs. If the daddy had any intuition (and he liked to think he did, thank you very much) then these weren’t tears caused by anything other than exhaustion and Jack having pushed away his little side for so long. They were good because they’d both exhaust and help his little one to get more into headspace.

After several minutes watching his poor sleepy baby struggle, he gave another sympathetic coo. “Jackabug,” he spoke quietly. “I know you’re upset, bud, and I know you feel icky; but Daddy was thinking he’d like to read you a story and maybe see if he could put a smile on that sweet face.”

Jack sniffled uneasily and uncurled slightly with a little huff. Mark’s face creased into a soft smile. “There he is,” he spoke over the soft sound of hiccups on the other end of the video call. “Want a story, Jackaboy?” Jack appeared to consider it for a moment, but quickly decided on the ‘yes’ option (for which Mark was thankful. Better to calm him down now than have things continue and escalate into a sleepy tantrum. That usually ended in a worse off baby boy because his daddy had to be another whole country away and couldn’t hold him when he was done crying). “Which story do you want to hear?”

“Cookie.” It was muffled, because of course the baby had his fingers in his mouth instead of the paci that was right beside him. Mark took a soft breath.

“Fingers out of mouth, please, Jack.” He murmured quietly as he reached over and tugged the much-loved volume of  _If You Give A Mouse A Cookie_ from the shelf. It was Jack’s favorite, right up there with  _Goodnight Moon_ and  _Guess How Much I Love You_. “Use your paci, baby boy,” he reminded, and the baby hummed quietly, grabbing his Septiceye Sam paci Mark had gotten him for his birthday and sticking it in his mouth.

Mark watched as Jack crawled beneath the covers and situated himself expectantly, still scrubbing at his tear filled eyes. Flipping to the first page, he began to read.

“If you give a mouse a cookie, chances are he’s going to want some milk to go with it…”

Jack was out like a light by the third page.


End file.
